Rhymes of a Rolling Stone

Dreams Are Best

     I just think that dreams are best,
      Just to sit and fancy things;
      Give your gold no acid test,
     Try not how your silver rings;
     Fancy women pure and good,
      Fancy men upright and true:
      Fortressed in your solitude,
     Let Life be a dream to you.

     For I think that Thought is all;
      Truth's a minion of the mind;
      Love's ideal comes at call;
     As ye seek so shall ye find.
     But ye must not seek too far;
      Things are never what they seem:
      Let a star be just a star,
     And a woman — just a dream.

     O you Dreamers, proud and pure,
      You have gleaned the sweet of life!
      Golden truths that shall endure
     Over pain and doubt and strife.
     I would rather be a fool
      Living in my Paradise,
      Than the leader of a school,
     Sadly sane and weary wise.

     O you Cynics with your sneers,
      Fallen brains and hearts of brass,
      Tweak me by my foolish ears,
     Write me down a simple ass!
     I'll believe the real "you"
      Is the "you" without a taint;
      I'll believe each woman too,
     But a slightly damaged saint.

     Yes, I'll smoke my cigarette,
      Vestured in my garb of dreams,
      And I'll borrow no regret;
     All is gold that golden gleams.
     So I'll charm my solitude
      With the faith that Life is blest,
      Brave and noble, bright and good, . . .
     Oh, I think that dreams are best!